


memento mori.

by orphxus (impxria)



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/M, Gender-neutral Reader, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-12
Updated: 2016-01-12
Packaged: 2018-05-13 11:40:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5706322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impxria/pseuds/orphxus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <span class="small"><b>[</b> remember you will die. <b>]</b></span>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	memento mori.

[ { please listen. }](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oN2Xs-MvxLw)

* * *

The expedition is soon.

It’s your second one. You wonder if it will be the last.

It’s been planned for months; despite the amount of time you’ve had to prepare, this gnawing feeling continues to creep through your body. It’s this panic-- this fear that’s settled deep in your heart. It’s this sense of dread and trepidation that threatens to consume your mind and the thoughts that occupy it.

And you hate it. You hate it because it never goes away. You hate it because you don’t _want_ to feel it-- you don’t want to because you’re a soldier. A soldier that fights for the safety of the civilians. A soldier willing to give their life up for humanity.

And you’re aware that there shouldn’t be any self resentment for being afraid-- for being so entirely human. But it’ll always remain with you.

The horrors outside the walls are never forgotten. The titans that rip comrades apart in mere seconds, the cries for help-- the blood that stains green fields. No matter how many times it’s witnessed, it is forever burned into your memory. And it doesn’t end there. It doesn’t end when you come back to the temporary safety inside the walls because it returns in your dreams. It comes back and you wake from a nightmare only to be living in another-- living in a place where everyone constantly fears for their lives.

There’s nothing that can be done to get ready for the expeditions. 

All you can do is put on a brave face.

Thoughts break when the door creaks and eyes meet the origin of the noise; his visage remains neutral despite the unexpected appearance in his office. These encounters don’t happen often, but surprise does not register whenever he sees you. He remains ignorant to the true reason of your presence; it is usual that you say few words to the other and he gives little in return.

He stands at the doorway. You turn towards him with a smile that says everything, yet nothing and the captain finds disturbance in it.

“I don’t want to die.”

He doesn’t respond.

**.     .     .**

The air is heavy with death and the expedition is far from over. Battle after battle, waves of titans and growing fatigue-- what little hope left dwindles away. But there is silence now. Although grief fills it and haunts soldiers’ minds, it provides a weak feeling of safety and peace.

But you know there is no such thing. They will come back later. They always do.

And more of you will die.

A grimace at the thought and growing self resentment. This is no way to think-- no way to live, but you know that it’s the truth. You know that at the end of the day, all the positive thoughts won’t help you come back alive. You can tell yourself it’ll be alright-- that everything will work out and that the titans will be defeated soon, but it can only go so far before reality hits home.

Muscles ache and your chest heaves. Despite the protest of your body, you do not rest yet. Feet walk aimlessly and eyes linger on injured allies-- the ones who sit with knees hugged to their chest, the ones that tremble violently, the ones that hold vacant expressions. The sight is familiar and the pain that used to seize you is no longer strong; it is dull and lacks compassion.

You do not attempt to provide consolation. Not anymore.

You only keep walking.

And soon enough, you come face to face with him.

Blue eyes do not soften at the sight, though brows furrow and a hint of worry falls upon hardened features. Crimson stains your entire figure-- blood is smeared across your face and shoulders hang low. He recalls how you were in the previous expedition-- hands wringing together, a concerned visage on at all times.

He ponders whether it’s the same person before him.

The same one who was so very hopeful. The person determined to protect people without any hesitation; the person who acted so unafraid.

War changes people. It can strengthen them. It can weaken them.

He doesn’t know what it’s done to you.

The train of thought is lost when your lips curve. It’s a hollow smile that greets him, yet a lingering sorrow remains, though carefully put away.

“I don’t want to die.”

A grim expression and a cruel silence between two broken soldiers.

**.     .     .**

The expedition is over and the soldiers do everything they can to ignore the civilians. It’s no longer a welcoming when they return home. Screams resonate outside the walls; angry and remorseful cries echo within the walls. Few fall victim to the hatred; the rest hold facades made of glass.

It doesn’t affect you. Not like it used to.

You were once frightened to go home because you knew they hated you. Because you let people die. People who were mothers, fathers, and children. People who were important pieces to another’s heart.

But everything is blocked out. The resentful tones when they ask where their loved one is-- the loud wailing when the death of a family member is discovered.

You don’t hear anything. You don’t _feel_ anything.

And when Levi looks over at you, he doesn’t see anyone. And that familiar feeling of devastation that comes when he acknowledges another fallen hero greets him and _please_ , please don’t let him feel this. Please don’t let him understand why his chest constricts when he sees you.

Because he realizes.

He realizes that you’re long gone.

You are alive.

But you are not living.


End file.
